


making it work

by demistories



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Secret Identity, adrien secretly designs stuff and mari runs a blog, but they only know each other as chat noir and ladybug, i know that doesnt SOUND like an au but it IS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demistories/pseuds/demistories
Summary: Adrien knows that there’s a bit more than just a hint of irony in this situation. The son of a world famous designer, one of the top designers in the industry, hiding his designs. Adrien could easily announce that he’s going into fashion and be given not only all the supplies he could ever need but also all the publicity in the world in a matter of seconds.
But he won’t do that. He never will.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "i want there to be a hc about possibly anonymous designer! adrien who designs to escape but doesn't want it to seem his father is helping and anonymous fashion blogger! marinette starting to talk and they send letters to one another and their pen names are chat noir and ladybug and on her blog you know it's something by her because of a little ladybug symbol next to what she wrote and you know he's designed something because of the little paw always on it. or possibly those roles are reversed?" -anon on tumblr
> 
> man no one should encourage me to do aaaanything. this is kind of like.....a how this situation would happen fic? sorta? 
> 
> honestly i wrote most of this after 1am so no promises on quality of literally anything. i haven't sewn in y e a r s
> 
> enjoy?

Adrien knows that there’s a bit more than just a hint of irony in this situation. The son of a world famous designer, one of the  _ top designers _ in the industry,  _ hiding _ his designs. Adrien could easily announce that he’s going into fashion and be given not only all the supplies he could ever need but also all the publicity in the world in a matter of seconds. 

But he won’t do that. He never will. 

Being the son of Gabriel Agreste means two things: 

  1. He’s expected to be perfect in every way. 
  2. If he went into fashion, no one would believe he got there with his talent and hard work alone. 



If people didn’t think his father got him a job directly, they’d think it was the name. The name Agreste is synonymous with high end fashion. The name and the designer are impossible to separate, even with Gabriel’s line being called  _ Gabriel _ . 

It doesn’t help that Adrien’s been modeling since he was born. 

It’s kind of…cliche? that Adrien wants to go into fashion. You’d think that after so many years of being surrounded by it and smothered in it he’d stay far far away. But it’s the opposite. Adrien is expected to inherit the Gabriel fashion empire. He’s expected to possibly handle the business side but mostly just be the face. He doesn’t want that. He wants to be hands on, he wants to be creating. He wants to be like his father. There are very few times he is able to say that. 

Adrien  _ knows _ fashion. He knows color and draping and stitching. He knows how lighting can change everything. He knows the way a sewing machine feels under your hands and the crick you get in your neck from bending over handsewn embroidery. He knows dressmaker’s chalk and sharp fabric shears and can hem pants in his sleep. He knows thimbles and needles and thread. His life is a patchwork quilt of moments, snapshots with his family that are barely held together but the stitches that are there are strong and he is sure they will last. He knows how colors fade. He has yet to figure out how to stop them. 

Designing comes naturally. If his father knew, maybe he’d be proud. Or maybe not. Adrien will never know, because Gabriel will never know. Telling his father equals telling the world. 

Adrien’s designs rarely get past the doodle stage. He doesn’t have time for much of anything else. When he does, he snags discarded and extra fabric from workrooms and offices. He’s ripped up his own clothing and used it for experimental designs before. He has too many shirts, what’s one shirt ruined? 

He’s about 90% sure that Nathalie knows. He tends to work late into the night because his mind has a problem with shutting off. And Nathalie never sleeps. That woman runs purely on caffeine and Excel sheets. But Nathalie— Nathalie would never tell his father. Adrien isn’t exactly sure why, but she always seems more on his side than off it, from when she fudges his schedule for a little bit more free time to slipping him occasional extra snacks. She keeps the same blank expression on her face whenever he thanks her, but Adrien is breaking her down piece by piece, he knows it. One day, he’ll get her to crack a smile. 

Adrien has had to resist the urge to don a hoodie and sunglasses to go into a fabric store on several occasions. He’s kicked himself down and picked himself up. He has all these resources right at his fingertips, but he  _ can’t  _ use them and he  _ won’t  _ use them. He’ll prove to himself and the world — and his father, if he’s being honest — that he’s more than just a name and more than just a legacy. Adrien Agreste is his own person and his own designer, and he can stand on his own two legs just as well his father can. 

Adrien looks up from his sketchbook and drags his hands down his face. 

_ Ugh _ . 

He’s sick of trying to make this shirt look like less of a disaster. He hates scrapping designs — there’s something about forcing himself to find a way to make it  _ work _ that’s not only satisfying but makes him feel like he’s improving by putting himself outside of his comfort zone — but this one might have to go. He turns on his computer before he rips the page out of his sketchbook and lights it on fire or something because Nathalie would  _ definitely _ not be okay with that and he has a dress sketch on the other side of this page that he actually likes. 

He opens up Skype to see if there are any new messages and notices that Ladybug is online. 

**chat noir:** You’re up??

**ladybug:** As always :P  
Stuck on the colors for a shirt  
Cant decide between blue  
Or like  
Slightly less blue blue  
You?

**chat noir:** Trying not to set my sketchbook on fire

**ladybug:** Glad were on the same page kitten

**chat noir:** Want me to take a look

**ladybug:** !!!  
Please <3 <3

Adrien spins around in his desk chair while he waits for the images to send. It’s weird having Ladybug to talk to. A good weird, a weird that he likes very much, but  _ weird _ . Because they speak each other’s language, they speak in fabrics and dress patterns, and Adrien can actually  _ respond _ the same way. Usually he has to pretend he’s disinterested or doesn’t understand. It means he can soak in all of the talk of fashion around him, but it’s totally different to actually have a  _ conversation _ with someone about it. To get someone’s thoughts and opinions. 

It’s a good weird that he wishes he had more of.

Adrien found Ladybug’s blog while scrolling through tumblr tags. He’d made a tumblr himself with a bad cat pun in the url purely so he could save his sketches somewhere other than his desktop. He created a black cat persona to hide behind and build around him like a safety net. Adrien had liked the dress Ladybug posted a picture of in the tags enough to click through to her actual blog and it’s adorable spotted theme that stuck to her ladybug persona. Her blog isn’t just her original designs, it’s dedicated to fashion as a whole. She has inspiration tags and pages and pages of references and helpful tips. It’s not uncommon to see a Gabriel Agreste Original pass through her pages. 

After a few weeks of pretty obsessive stalking that she almost definitely noticed, he finally worked up the courage to say hi and compliment her. Not without a little extra flair of a cat pun. 

Her response had been relatively immediate and full of disgust at the pun. 

He was in love. 

Okay, maybe not in love. But he now had a friend who was an incredibly talented designer with a knack for unique ideas and a quick wit. For a while they just messaged back and forth on tumblr, complementing and critiquing the other’s work, Ladybug sending unamused emojis in response to Adrien’s puns. He started sending her an excessive amount of cat emojis. She returned with the ladybug and then claimed all non-cat emojis as her own because it was no fair that _his_ actually had expressions. 

One day they just decided to swap Skype information and personally, he thinks the rest is history. A drien still doesn’t know Ladybug’s name or what she looks like, but he knows her handwriting and her style and her thought process. For now, that’s enough for him. 

He stops spinning as two new images pop up on the screen. One is of Ladybug’s sketch and the other is two blue fabrics side by side. He tilts his head. 

Ladybug was right. One is blue and one is less blue. 

He makes the pictures larger and then spins in his chair a few more times while he thinks. He assumes this is the shirt that goes with the skirt that he’d seen the other day, and he knows the gray that she chose for that. 

The blues are very close to being the same. It probably won’t matter all that much if she chooses one or the other, at least to the general public. _Ladybug_ can’t just choose one at random. That’s not how she  _ works _ . 

**chat noir:** They’re both lovely my lady

**ladybug:** Thanks but not helpful

**chat noir:** Do you want more or less serious and sophisticated

**ladybug:** Um  
Less?

**chat noir:** Is that a question?

**ladybug:** No its not  
Less

**chat noir:** Go with the slightly brighter blue   
And I’d maybe open the collar more or make it smaller or something so it’s not so closed up  
You know???  
So it’s less uptight

**ladybug:** Excuse me did you just call my shirt uptight

**chat noir:** Absolutely not bugaboo I called the  _ collar _ uptight  
There’s a difference

**ladybug:** Uh huh  
You are not off the hook you mangy cat

**chat noir:** Hey! Be nice to me!  
I have artist’s block

**ladybug:** Ooo yikes  
Rest in pieces

**chat noir:** Thanks for the condolences

**ladybug:** Now that thats sorted I should really go to bed  
I have class in the morning and I can feel the regret  
I just couldnt sleep with that color choice haunting me

**chat noir:** The outfit will be simply purrfect lb  
I know it

**ladybug:** God I hate you 

**chat noir:** No you don’t <3

**ladybug:** Isnt that the worst part of this all?   
Night kitten

**chat noir:** Night Ladybug!

Adrien watches the screen until Ladybug’s status changes to offline. He glances down at his sketchbook and scrunches his nose. 

_God_ he really hates this shirt. 

He flips to the next page and starts doodling. He has no plan, he just needs out of this funk and that shirt out of his mind. The jacket he’s scribbling takes on a sort of geometric look to it that he…surprisingly doesn’t hate? 

Mumbling to himself, he keeps sketching until he’s satisfied, making the lines darker and thicker. He furrows his eyebrows as he adjust the collar, thinking about what he told Ladybug. He finds himself reaching for his markers and carefully adding ink to the drawing. His color choices aren’t as precise as hers are, they’re more of gut instinct. All of his fashion is more gut instinct than Ladybug. Her designs shine in their perfection, each fold is put there for a very specific purpose. Adrien may know those purposes, but he tends to wing it, letting whatever feels  _ right _ guide him. 

Adrien lays down his pens and rubs his eyes. 

His head hurts and it’s  _ late _ but he’s looking down at a jacket that he can actually see being modeled on the runway. He can see  _ himself _ wearing it on the runway. 

He glances to the time on his desktop. It’s after one and he’s going to regret this so much in the morning, but he can’t stop looking at this design. There are a few designs he’s drawn that cause him actual pain to keep hidden away in his room. 

What if…?

Adrien chews on his lip. There’s a lot of ways this could go wrong. But on the other hand… 

He opens up a document and types up a few quick words, fabric choices and more specific colors. As the page prints, he adds close up details along the side of the page, defining the buttons and their shapes and the way the collar is stitched. If he’s doing this, he’s doing it right. 

He cuts the words out of the paper and pastes them into his sketchbook. He looks it over with a close eye before carefully tearing out the page. 

Adrien grabs a random marker from the pile on his desk. He uncaps the neon green and draws a neat pawprint in the bottom right corner. 

_Purrfect_. 

* * *

His next photoshoot is buzzing. People are whispering about these strange anonymous designs everyone keeps finding. Supposedly, the first one was found by Gabriel himself. Others have been found in workstations, in sewing rooms, in piles of fabric, and in makeup bags. They’re all signed with the same pawprint, the only identification anyone has been able to find.

Adrien carefully pulls on a half made jacket for a fitting. The maker claims the design is a Gabriel Original.  Adrien runs his hands over the familiar lines as the maker studies the jacket carefully. Adrien smiles to himself in the mirror. 

As Adrien Agreste he might not be taken seriously as a designer, but Chat Noir is an entirely different story. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to support me and my writing, check out my sidebar on [tumblr](http://sadrien.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fics)! <3


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